the queen of hearts-第36部分

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time　to　consider　what　I　had　better　do　next；　partly　from　an
unaccountable　curiosity　that　urged　me；　strangely　to　myself；　to
see　all　I　could　of　the　outside　of　the　place　before　I　attempted　to
gain　admission　at　the　gate。

At　the　back　of　the　convent　I　found　an　outhouse；　built　on　to　the
walla　clumsy；　decayed　building；　with　the　greater　part　of　the
roof　fallen　in；　and　with　a　jagged　hole　in　one　of　its　sides；　where
in　all　probability　a　window　had　once　been。　Behind　the　outhouse
the　trees　grew　thicker　than　ever。　As　I　looked　toward　them　I　could
not　determine　whether　the　ground　beyond　me　rose　or　fellwhether
it　was　grassy；　or　earthy；　or　rocky。　I　could　see　nothing　but　the
all…pervading　leaves；　brambles；　ferns；　and　long　grass。

Not　a　sound　broke　the　oppressive　stillness。　No　bird's　note　rose
from　the　leafy　wilderness　around　me；　no　voices　spoke　in　the
convent　garden　behind　the　scowling　wall；　no　clock　struck　in　the
chapel…tower；　no　dog　barked　in　the　ruined　outhouse。　The　dead
silence　deepened　the　solitude　of　the　place　inexpressibly。　I　began
to　feel　it　weighing　on　my　spiritsthe　more；　because　woods　were
never　favorite　places　with　me　to　walk　in。　The　sort　of　pastoral
happiness　which　poets　often　represent　when　they　sing　of　life　in
the　woods　never；　to　my　mind；　has　half　the　charm　of　life　on　the
mountain　or　in　the　plain。　When　I　am　in　a　wood；　I　miss　the
boundless　loveliness　of　the　sky；　and　the　delicious　softness　that
distance　gives　to　the　earthly　view　beneath。　I　feel　oppressively
the　change　which　the　free　air　suffers　when　it　gets　imprisoned
among　leaves；　and　I　am　always　awed；　rather　than　pleased；　by　that
mysterious　still　light　which　shines　with　such　a　strange　dim
luster　in　deep　places　among　trees。　It　may　convict　me　of　want　of
taste　and　absence　of　due　feeling　for　the　marvelous　beauties　of
vegetation；　but　I　must　frankly　own　that　I　never　penetrate　far
into　a　wood　without　finding　that　the　getting　out　of　it　again　is
the　pleasantest　part　of　my　walkthe　getting　out　on　to　the　barest
down；　the　wildest　hill…side；　the　bleakest　mountain　topthe
getting　out　anywhere；　so　that　I　can　see　the　sky　over　me　and　the
view　before　me　as　far　as　my　eye　can　reach。

After　such　a　confession　as　I　have　now　made；　it　will　appear
surprising　to　no　one　that　I　should　have　felt　the　strongest
possible　inclination；　while　I　stood　by　the　ruined　outhouse；　to
retrace　my　steps　at　once；　and　make　the　best　of　my　way　out　of　the
wood。　I　had；　indeed；　actually　turned　to　depart；　when　the
remembrance　of　the　er　rand　which　had　brought　me　to　the　convent
suddenly　stayed　my　feet。　It　seemed　doubtful　whether　I　should　be
admitted　into　the　building　if　I　rang　the　bell；　and　more　than
doubtful；　if　I　were　let　in；　whether　the　inhabitants　would　be　able
to　afford　me　any　clew　to　the　information　of　which　I　was　in
search。　However；　it　was　my　duty　to　Monkton　to　leave　no　means　of
helping　him　in　his　desperate　object　untried；　so　I　resolved　to　go
round　to　the　front　of　the　convent　again；　and　ring　at　the
gate…bell　at　all　hazards。

By　the　merest　chance　I　looked　up　as　I　passed　the　side　of　the
outhouse　where　the　jagged　hole　was；　and　noticed　that　it　was
pierced　rather　high　in　the　wall。

As　I　stopped　to　observe　this；　the　closeness　of　the　atmosphere　in
the　wood　seemed　to　be　affecting　me　more　unpleasantly　than　ever。

I　waited　a　minute　and　untied　my　cravat。

Closeness？　surely　it　was　something　more　than　that。　The　air　was
even　more　distasteful　to　my　nostrils　than　to　my　lungs。　There　was
some　faint；　indescribable　smell　loading　itsome　smell　of　which　I
had　never　had　any　previous　experiencesome　smell　which　I　thought
（now　that　my　attention　was　directed　to　it）　grew　more　and　more
certainly　traceable　to　its　source　the　nearer　I　advanced　to　the
outhouse；

By　the　time　I　had　tried　the　experiment　two　or　three　times；　and
had　made　myself　sure　of　this　fact；　my　curiosity　became　excited。
There　were　plenty　of　fragments　of　stone　and　brick　lying　about　me。
I　gathered　some　of　them　together；　and　piled　them　up　below　the
hole；　then　mounted　to　the　top；　and；　feeling　rather　ashamed　of
what　I　was　doing；　peeped　into　the　outhouse。

The　sight　of　horror　that　met　my　eyes　the　instant　I　looked　through
the　hole　is　as　present　to　my　memory　now　as　if　I　had　beheld　it
yesterday。　I　can　hardly　write　of　it　at　this　distance　of　time
without　a　thrill　of　the　old　terror　running　through　me　again　to
the　heart。

The　first　impression　conveyed　to　me；　as　I　looked　in；　was　of　a
long；　recumbent　object；　tinged　with　a　lightish　blue　color　all
over；　extended　on　trestles；　and　bearing　a　certain　hideous；
half…formed　resemblance　to　the　human　face　and　figure。　I　looked
again；　and　felt　certain　of　it。　There　were　the　prominences　of　the
forehead；　nose；　and　chin；　dimly　shown　as　under　a　veilthere；　the
round　outline　of　the　chest　and　the　hollow　below　itthere；　the
points　of　the　knees；　and　the　stiff；　ghastly；　upturned　feet。　I
looked　again；　yet　more　attentively。　My　eyes　got　accustomed　to　the
dim　light　streaming　in　through　the　broken　roof；　and　I　satisfied
myself；　judging　by　the　great　length　of　the　body　from　head　to
foot；　that　I　was　looking　at　the　corpse　of　a　mana　corpse　that
had　apparently　once　had　a　sheet　spread　over　it；　and　that　had　lain
rotting　on　the　trestles　under　the　open　sky　long　enough　for　the
linen　to　take　the　livid；　light…blue　tinge　of　mildew　and　decay
which　now　covered　it。

How　long　I　remained　with　my　eyes　fixed　on　that　dread　sight　of
death；　on　that　tombless；　terrible　wreck　of　humanity；　poisoning
the　still　air；　and　seeming　even　to　stain　the　faint　descending
light　that　disclosed　it；　I　know　not。　I　remember　a　dull；　distant
sound　among　the　trees；　as　if　the　breeze　were　risingthe　slow
creeping　on　of　the　sound　to　near　the　place　where　I　stoodthe
noiseless　whirling　fall　of　a　dead　leaf　on　the　corpse　below　me；
through　the　gap　in　the　outhouse　roofand　the　effect　of　awakening
my　energies；　of　relaxing　the　heavy　strain　on　my　mind；　which　even
the　slight　change　wrought　in　the　scene　I　beheld　by　the　falling
leaf　produced　in　me　immediately。　I　descended　to　the　ground；　and；
sitting　down　on　the　heap　of　stones；　wiped　away　the　thick
perspiration　which　covered　my　face；　and　which　I　now　became　aware
of　for　the　first　time。　It　was　something　more　than　the　hideous
spectacle　unexpectedly　offered　to　my　eyes　which　had　shaken　my
nerves　as　I　felt　that　they　were　shaken　now。　Monkton's　prediction
that；　if　we　succeeded　in　discovering　his　uncle's　body；　we　should
find　it　unburied；　recurred　to　me　the　instant　I　saw　the　trestles
and　their　ghastly　burden。　I　felt　assured　on　the　instant　that　I
had　found　the　dead　manthe　old　prophecy　recurred　to　my　memorya
strange　yearning　sorrow；　a　vague　foreboding　of　ill；　an
inexplicable　terror；　as　I　thought　of　the　poor　lad　who　was
awaiting　my　return　in　the　distant　town；　struck　through　me　with　a
chill　of　superstitious　dread；　robbed　me　of　my　judgment　and
resolution；　and　left　me　when　I　had　at　last　recovered　myself；　weak
and　dizzy；　as　if　I　had　just　suffered　under　some　pang　of
overpowering　physical　pain。

I　hastened　round　to　the　convent　gate　and　rang　impatiently　at　the
bellwaited　a　little　while　and　rang　againthen　heard　footsteps。

In　the　middle　of　the　gate；　just　opposite　my　face；　there　was　a
small　sliding　panel；　not　more　than　a　few　inches　long；　this　was
presently　pushed　aside　from　within。　I　saw；　through　a　bit　of　iron
grating；　two　dull；　light　gray　eyes　staring　vacantly　at　me；　and
heard　a　feeble　husky　voice　saying：

〃What　may　you　please　to　want？'

〃I　am　a　traveler〃　I　began。

〃We　live　in　a　miserable　place。　We　have　nothing　to　show　travelers
here。〃

〃I　don't　come　to　see　anything。　I　have　an　important　question　to
ask；　which　I　believe　some　one　in　this　convent　will　be　able　to
answer。　If　you　are　not　willing　to　let　me　in；　at　least　come　out
and　speak　to　me　here。〃

〃Are　you　alone？〃

〃Quite　alone。〃

〃Are　there　no　women　with　you？〃

〃None。〃

The　gate　was　slowly　unbarred；　and　an　old　Capuchin；　very　infirm；
very　suspicious；　and　very　dirty；　stood　before　me。　I　was　far　too
excited　and　impatient　to　waste　any　time　in　prefatory　phrases；　so；
telling　the　monk　at　once　how　I　had　looked　through　the　hole　in　the
outhouse；　and　what　I　had　seen　inside；　I　asked　him；　in　plain
terms；　who　the　man　had　been　whose　corpse　I　had　beheld；　and　why
the　body　was　left　unburied？

The　old　Capuchin　listened　to　me　with　watery　eyes　that　twinkled
suspiciously。　He　had　a　battered　tin　snuff…box　in　his　hand；　and
his　finger　and　thumb　slowly　chased　a　few　scattered　grains　of
snuff　round　and　round　the　inside　of　the　box　all　the　time　I　was
speaking。　When　I　had　done；　he　shook　his　head　and　said：　〃That　was
certainly　an　ugly　sight　in　their　outhouse；　one　of　the　ugliest
sights；　he　felt　sure；　that　ever　I　had　seen　in　all　my　life！〃

〃I　don't　want　to　talk　of　the　sight；〃　I　rejoined；　impatiently；　〃I
want　to　know　who　the　man　was；　how　he　died；　and　why　he　is　not
decently　buried。　Can　you　tell　me？〃

The　monk's　finger　and　thumb　having　captured　three　or　four　grains
of　snuff　at　last；　he　slowly　drew　them　into　his　nostrils；　holding
the　box　open　under　his　nose　the　while；　to　prevent　the　possibility
of　wasting　even　one　grain；　sniffed　once　or　twice
luxuriouslyclosed　the　boxthen　looked　at　me　again　with　his
eyes　watering　and　twinkling　more　suspiciously　than　before